Wild
by OokamiHybrid
Summary: "I really didn't intend for that to be a booty call." He mutters into the small of her back.


_Wild_

Lydia jerks lightly at the sudden dip in her bed, heart hammering wildly before she settles. It's Jackson. Of course it's Jackson – and really, she's used to him slipping into her house in the middle of the night but it's usually through the door. Not the window. Which she's one hundred percent certain she remembered to close because she is Lydia fucking Martin and she remembers everything now that there's no werewolf creeping around in her brain.

"Jackson?" She asks him, twisting her head around to peer through the night-time darkness. His eyes are glowing blue, half lidded, and he cautiously skims his knuckles over her sheet covered thigh. She shivers; she's not prepared for this, not in the slightest. She even went to bed in her frumpy clothes, not having expected company.

"I'm sorry I scared you." His voice his low and rumbling, like he's been gargling gravel. He takes a deep breath, shoulders shuddering as he tries to regain control. She wonders what has him so bent out of shape. Since finally becoming a werewolf – and hello, what the fuck is that even? Werewolves? – he's had...rather good control, considering. He pulls his hand away from her, clenching it into a fist and settling it on his own leg.

He's wearing track pants, which are his normal sleeping clothes, and when she sits up she can see how _hard_ he is, straining the material. There's a dark stain where the tip of his cock is, and she rolls her eyes, both flattered and annoyed. "Late night booty call?" She asks, toying with the key that is once more tied around her neck.

"Not like that Lyd." He moves himself slowly, settling until he's lying on the bed facing her. He reaches out to tuck her hair back, clawed thumb brushing her cheek before shying away. "I just wanted to see you." He exhales slowly and she can see the tension leaving him, even if the wolf doesn't back down. She's seen Scott like this; seen him turn to find Allison or Stiles, touch their soft spots and make sure they're _there_. Because they're Scott's pack, and as much as Jacks begged Derek for the bite, after everything that's happened...Jackson won't accept Derek has his Alpha. Scott might be willing to take Jackson in, but it's perfectly clear to her.

She's the only one Jackson has left. The only one he _trusts_. That must have happened somewhere between a key and a death, and the heart wrecking _afterwards_. She sighs into her pillow and closes her eyes, letting him continue fingering at her hair. This close, she can smell the musk that all the wolves seem to give off. It's soft and woodsy, alluring. Calming. She likes it and tucks her chin to his chest, nosing at his throat.

He growls low in his throat, sounding wrecked, and pulls away.

Lydia can't have that. She's seen Jackson at his _definite_ worst, and loved him at his insufferable best. She catches his wrists and presses the back of his hand to her cheek, eyes sliding open. "I want you to touch me." She says it crystal clear, not giving him any room to question. "I want _all_ of you, Jackson. If I wasn't prepared for this I wouldn't have stayed after the warehouse."

His eyes brighten further and he takes a breath through his mouth. It looks like he's tasting the air, tongue flickering over his elongated teeth. "Yeah?" She nods and rolls onto her back, kicking the sheets off. The room is cool and she shivers with it, until he's climbing over her. He sets himself between her legs, calloused palms stroking up the outsides of her smooth thighs, head dipping so he can press his face to her stomach. "You smell good." He offers her, mouthing below her navel. The sensitive skin trembles under his fangs when he presses them there, holding her down. He doesn't break the skin, but he's bruising it, and she feels her cotton undies dampen.

His nostrils flare and it...doesn't really seem like Jackson is all there anymore. He pulls away to nose up under her nightgown – which looks ridiculous, it really and truly does, his whole torso trying to climb under the hem of her faded pink nightie – and buries himself between her thighs. She can feel him breathing on her, moist, and keens when he presses a tongue to her. His growl vibrates her whole body and Lydia hitches a leg over his shoulder, pressing him close. "Rip them."

He does; claws shed the fabric easily, and he doesn't both to remove them fully. Just presses his face closer, until he can press his mouth over her and lick _deep_. Before all this, all the wolf business, he'd been. Well, he hadn't had a problem eating her out but this is more _intense_. She can _feel_ how much he wants it, hear the deep breaths he's taking as he goes to town, and the thought that this is for her. That he wants to do this to _her_ has her toes curling, coming faster than she ever has with him before. She whines his name out high and breezy, staring down her own body as he pulls away, licking at his lips.

He's just had his _fangs_...a pulse of desire shoots through her and she uses her feet to try and shove his pants down his hips.

Almost as soon as the sweats are over his ass he's shoving close. "No. Jackson." She flicks at one of his ears – longer now, the wolf creeping out – "Condom. Don't look at me like that, condom, or get out of my room." She shoves his chest, twice, and be backs off, eyes tracking her every movement. She rolls back onto her belly, stretching for her beside drawer and...oh.

He rises up over her, laying himself lightly across her back. Not trying anything, just there, and she reaches a hand around to feel at his cock, surprised with how wet _he_ is. "Soon." She tells him, struggling to rip a foil packet and roll it onto him blind. With his claws, the ones that are digging into her hips...he'd heal if he cut himself, but she's too turned on to risk it. She lets her chest fall to the bed, realizes she's _presenting herself_, but some part of her, and a huge part of him, like it.

"This is okay?" He asks, and it sounds sort of desperate.

"Jackson if you don't do something _now_, I'm getting Stiles to ash my house."

Jackson snarls deep in his throat, pressing into her slowly. "When I'm _done_ you won't even remember Stilinski's name." He tells her, teeth clamping down over her shoulder.

"Stilinski who?" She snaps back, just a bit breathless as she reaches to grab at his ass, pulling him closer. Pulling him _in_. She's still wearing the nightie but now it's hitched up, hooked under her arms as he fucks into her. She gives up her hold on him to press her fists into the headboard, trying not to slam into it. It's rough. They've always been, despite what people think, a rather gentle couple. Late nights rolling in bed, under the blankets, quiet murmurs of _are you okay_?

There is no questioning now. Their world has narrowed down to where they're connected, head to toe, and Lydia's eyes rolls in pleasure. It's never been this _good_. "Jackson. _Jackson_." She can't help but repeat his name, like confirming that this is _him_ and _her_ and _them_, and.

Her world fades to white but he doesn't stop. Doesn't stop until he's done – howling loud enough to rattle the windows. She hopes it doesn't call the packs to her house. She thinks that maybe there's a triumphant lilt to his call, and can almost picture Erica's smirk and Scott's blush. Lydia sinks onto the bed when he pulls out, crooning when human nails stroke down her back. He doesn't ask her if she's okay, just pets her all over as he mouths at lines of sweat, breathing her in.

"I really didn't intend for that to be a booty call." He mutters into the small of her back. He crawls up to lay at her side once more, letting her wrap herself up in his arms. He fiddles with the key around her neck, laying it beside her cheek over his chest, feeling the metal and her heat settling over his heart.

"Yes you did." She murmurs sleepily, pressing a kiss to him. "But it's alright. It was good for me. This time." She says it playfully, thinking about the shower they'll have in the morning.

"This time?" He doesn't even sound mildly offended, fingers twisted in her hair.

"This time." She agrees.


End file.
